Silmarillion Drabbles
by Earial13
Summary: What the title says. Mainly angsty little snippets from a fabulous book, but working on including other genres as well!
1. Dark Before Light

_So this will be where I'll post all my random drabbles based off of Tolkien's masterpiece, which I do not own, or any of the characters therein. _

Fingon

How strange and chancy is that which we call Fate! Now you are gone, cousin, and bitterness thrives between our families. I know not what drove you; in spite of our closeness, you are ever a mystery. I would repair the damage done, but hope dies in my breast while despair leers in my face.

So I shall sing, sing as Makalaurë taught me, a song of hope and friendship to combat the dark fears. I will not forsake the son of my father's brother, for you are part of my blood and part of my heart, Maitimo.


	2. Healing & Hurting

Maglor stared down at the innocent childish faces, pale features highlighted by the moon's silver light as the twins lay sleeping in bed. The Noldo sighed, gazing on small forms wrapped in thick blankets. He was the cause for them becoming orphans; somehow, he'd hoped to make slight amends for his deeds.

The renowned bard brushed a stray strand of dark hair off Elrond's face as he whispered a promise to him and Elros.

"I broke your hearts." He said hoarsely. "Though my own cannot be mended, I would help repair yours, if I can. Just please let me in."


	3. Ensnared By The Light

"Why not, sister?" Finrod asked, fair brow furrowing in puzzlement.

Galadriel sighed, tapping slender fingers against the balustrade as she looked out over Tirion. Twice now her half-uncle Fëanor had requested a strand of her hair, and twice Finarfin's lovely daughter had rejected him.

Galadriel herself couldn't quite explain her reasons, endeavoring to relay them for her favorite brother. "There's something dark in him." She said at length.

"None fully understand him, save perhaps Nerdanel." Finrod agreed. "…But his motives are pure."

The lady shifted to gaze into her brother's earnest face. Her countenance grew shadowed, dark foreboding falling, prompting the quiet reply that neither would forget. "For now…for now."


	4. Night Chords

The thrumming flowed from the string, filling the air with a quiet vibrato as it coursed through his fingers. The note, like a bright summer star, hung suspended, quivering with emotion before fading to a gentle whisper. He smiled, and more notes sprang from the harp as they raced to join their brothers in the cool night wind.

A haunting melody arose, woven with the skill and passion of the talented bard. Maglor exhaled, letting his hands traverse the paths of song that no longer needed his mind to guide them. Despite everything that had happened, within his world of music the son of Fëanor could find peace.


	5. Blood Heart

Maedhros

I watched him die.

I'd been there when his mother had given birth to that buddle of squalling noise and red puckered face. I taught him how to fight, to wield the blade with deadly accuracy and precision.

I helped him catch the eye of the lady he loved, stood by his side at his marriage vows and laughed at his ridiculous jokes.

I saw his face appear as he freed me from the anguish of Angband.

Yet, I could do nothing as his noble body was broken, crushed into rock and romped over by demons.

I watched him die.


	6. Salt of Grief

The silver-glazed waves swept onto the shore, gently caressing the white sand before receding. An ivory-clad figure moved slowly down the beach, turning to gaze out at the horizon, while Varda's dusky lamps glimmered on the sky's edges.

Elwing bit her lip, her far-seeing eyes combing the ocean, ever hopeful that this evening would be different. More often than not, her daily vigil would end in darkness as she traveled back to the house alone. The teasing wind caught her whispered words, soaked with inward longing, and flung them out to sea.

"Come back, my husband. Come back to me."


	7. Breaking Ties

The crimson liquid slowly dripped from his mouth, turning the fair skin blood red as Celegorm gazed into the depths of his wine glass. The heady drink however, capable of short forgetfulness, could not wipe away the pain and guilt that clawed at his chest.

_"You cannot allow your mind to become clouded with the fog of emotion. A warrior thinks with his head, not his heart." _

The fair-haired Fëanorian smiled grimly in remembrance at the irony of his father's words as he drained his cup. They had thought like warriors, and in so doing had lost their eldest brother.


	8. Oh Siblings

_Some quick fluff for a change... :)_

* * *

"Shhh…" Amrod instructed his giggling twin, slipping into Maedhros's bedroom. "Do you want somebody to hear?"

Amras swallowed his glee, dragging a chair to the door and carefully arranging a water bucket on top before gingerly exiting the forbidden room. "Wait 'till Russandol opens that!"

"Quite the waterfall he'll receive." Amrod agreed snickering, settling down to wait and watch, safely removed from the booby-trapped threshold.

They didn't have to wait long.

A strong step was heard coming towards them, prior to a splendid crash, soon followed by a stream of curses. "Ambarussa!"

The twins decided this was the ideal time to flee.


	9. When Destiny Caught Me

There he stood, as gracefully poised on the marble steps as any of the princes of the Eldar. The wind teased at golden tendrils of hair that escaped from his helm as the mighty voice of Ulmo thundered from his mouth, causing the very stones to shudder. Even when the Vala's words left their mortal cage, still he seemed unearthly, proud and fierce like the eagles that lived there.

Seated next to her father, she caught the full gaze of those blazing sapphire orbs, their eyes locking. A whisper of a smile crossed his stern features, and Idril's heart was lost.


	10. Heat Fades

"Maka!" The childish voice rang across the courtyard as the elf turned to greet his young brother. The slight movement drastically changed the scene as their father's house faded to a cold silent fortress, and a joyous call morphing to a pained whisper.

No… That mutilated body could not possibly be Tyelkormo. It wasn't, shouldn't be, his little Sunspot, ever clamoring for music in his shrill tones, now dying in his arms as he gently cradled the golden head.

"Sing," The cracked voice requested pleadingly. "Please, sing me to Námo."

So Maglor sang as night fell, his brother's fëa fled, and his aching heart started to crack.


	11. Of Him They Do Not Sing

Streaming banners of the heavens clothes, crushed into the blood-glutted ground. Fire and ice swirl in frenzied madness as Arda shakes with the Dark Lord's cry. Sirion weeps, lamenting the fall of a king. The willow arches its boughs in anguish as Ringil clatters down, stained with the sap of a Vala. Hearts are squeezed in grief and horror, even as his last breath is ripped from him.

The crack of bone echoes across the plain, rending the souls of those who hear. Yet mighty ones will not stand to see his body so dishonored, screeching in wounded love to tear the fleshly cloak of his vanquisher. So the standard tumbles, as blue robes are laid to rest.


	12. Love Melody

A loving smile broke across Thingol's face as his infant child's laugh pulled at his heartstrings. "She's beautiful." He whispered in awe, gazing into the tiny rosebud face that glowed with the light of Varda's stars its eyes had yet to behold.

"The blood of the Elves and Maiar flows in her veins." Melian returned softly, shifting the small bundle in her arms. "Fairer then any of the Children of Ilúvatar she shall be."

"That she will." The king breathed as little Lúthien caught his finger in her fist. "But for now, my love, she is only our precious daughter."


	13. Red Legacy

Celebrimbor stepped back from the forge to admire his newest creation. If only his father could be here, even just to criticize some invisible flaw…

"No," He told himself sternly. "You forsook him, rightly." A Kinslayer, slain while murdering a king's family, destroyed by the tyranny and destruction that followed as a result of that cursed Oath. Curufin always did have his father's fiery spirit, fierce in both his loves and hates, a flame that burned even after his demise.

Celebrimbor's eyes darkened as he gently caressed the ring he'd just completed. "For my father," He whispered. "I name thee Narya."


	14. Splintered

The quivering pain in my heart attempts to claw its way out of my chest to escape the horror and shame within it as flames ravage fair swan ships. A slow torture, watching them blaze against darkest night, for there is no boiling blood, as at Aqualondё, to dull my sharply aching soul now.

Never to see my cousin again, helpless, as he faces the glacial bite of ice and desperately fends off Death's cruel maw-because of me.

I cannot stop my brothers, watching as they burn the bridge of friendship behind them into ashes, but I will not aid them. In this I hold my ground, if only for the memory of Findekáno.

* * *

_Not meant in a slashy way guys... _

_I was going to upload this Maglor oneshot I'd been working on, but guess whose laptop (which contained all of the conveniently not backed up files on it) decided to take a little tumble off my desk and shatter its screen? Sooo, guess that story will have to wait till next week. _


	15. Still Standing

The sickening snap of bone played in his ears, harmonizing with anguished screams.

Glorfindel closed his burning eyes, the mountains fading from sight as flames engulfed his mutilated body. The physical pain ripping at his innards paled in comparison to what he'd just accomplished: he'd fought his fight and saved his people.

The words of Turgon seared into his mind as Mandos' call tugged his fëa from his hröa.

_ "Never fear the heat, my captains. Once you dread its presence, it has power over you and hope indeed fails. Fight the fire, and resist the dark." _

So he had done indeed.

* * *

_I've had this one sitting around for a while so I uploaded it quick, but I will try to expand this series to include more genres then just angst. Any particular character you guys want me to write about? Let me know!_


	16. Vows

Slender fingers moved deftly amongst the yards of creamy ivory silk as roses and vines sprang to life under their skillful direction. Galadriel uttered a quiet, almost unconscious, sigh as the thought of her daughter's impending departure from Lothlórien pulled at her heart.

A light, springy footfall was heard as white arms wound their way around the lady. "Tears, Naneth? I hope not on my account." Celebrían said playfully, pushing back silver locks to gaze into her mother's face.

"I'm afraid so, my dear, but tears of sadness mingled with joy." She smiled softly as the arms around her tightened.

"I'll always be with you, Mother, just as you will never leave my heart."


	17. Times To Remember

"No, no, hold the hilt lower." Finrod instructed as he watched his two youngest brothers spar with no small amount of amusement.

"I'm trying," Angrod replied in frustration as he was unarmed for the third time. "Aegnor keeps beating me." He continued, glaring at sibling in question, who grinned cheekily as he blew straight blonde hair out of his face.

"That's because he listens to me." The eldest retorted. "A warrior doesn't give up."

So the light of the Trees mingled, turning three yellow heads to gold as the brothers returned to their lesson, in blissful ignorance of the future.


	18. Captured Serenity

The soft blue color outlined the sky in one gentle stroke as lush grass and verdant trees were transplanted from her mind's eye to the canvas. Layer by layer, the entrancing landscape emerged, as a bird from the egg, crafted and designed under the lady's skillful hand.

A peaceful glow suffused her fair features while the cares and worries of her life faded as the fallen auburn leaves of the mighty oak in autumn. Nerdanel inhaled deeply, letting the cool, sweet air of Valinor flow over her lips like a tender kiss. Here, in this beloved land, she was home.


	19. Storms of Life

Those grey eyes stared so trustingly into his, dark raven locks framing a face whose fairness spoke of its Vanyar descent. "F_ë_a-nor!" That young voice would call in days long past. "What is it, little brother?" He would reply, the title tasting strange in his mouth.

Now those steely orbs gazed coldly and impassively on him, childish faith gone in the unsheathing of a sword. F_ë_anor's own eyes darkened as he pressed the blade closer to his kinsman's chest, almost hissing the words in his anger. "See half-brother! This is sharper than thy tongue!" So the familial bonds cracked as Finw_ë_'s eldest stalked away.


	20. Nightingale

The notes of her song wrapped a sweet enchantment around the spellbound man, that unearthly voice pulling his very soul to hers as surely as the battle trumpet calls to a warrior. Rich ebony hair swept around her slim, alabaster form as if molded by Manwë's winds, teasing at those dark locks and deep blue robes.

Beren exhaled raggedly as the personification of all his secret hopes and dreams danced in the glade before him, the light of Aman shining from her features. "Tinúviel." He whispered to himself as the stars reflected her radiance and the first stroke of their doom fell.

* * *

_Hey, it's about time I wrote about these two, right? :)_


	21. Management

"Fin-gon!"

"What is it, little brother?"

"Aredhel keeps trying to play with Larcatál while I'm trying to ride him. Make her stop!" The dark haired elfling whined as the aforementioned sister ran up.

"He never plays with me or lets me ride." She pouted darkly.

Fingon restrained a fond smile at their bickering. "How would you both like to go for a ride with me today? Aredhel, you can sit with Elerrocco and me while Turgon practices on Larcatál."

"Really? Sweet!"

"Oh, thank you!"

The children raced to the stables in eager anticipation. Fingon smiled again with a trace of glee. "And that is how you handle siblings."

* * *

_Larcatál = fast foot_

_Elerrocco = star horse (in Quenya)_


End file.
